There he is. In His black flight jacket. His baggy jeans.
His Tims and black fitted.
Hustling.
Standing on the corner busy while the friends are bustling.
His eyes is sharp. And he thinks he his surviving. Living it up as long as his business is thriving.
It's only12'0 clock and already he has fist size bundle of tens.
He just bought a new Benz.
And somehow he managed to bag up sins, and make it profitable to him.
Taliban,taliban,rubber band man.
With his superpowers, he hears the crack heads, like zombies, moan. They're fiening for their medicine.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have just entered the twilight zone.
So he reaches into his pocket and out crawls black butterflies.
They spread their wings and fly to the sky.
They fly so high , they touch the sun.
They get burned to white ashes.
Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust
An eye for an eye
A life for a soul
The devil coming for him but he just don't know
How else to make that paper
to become safer from that disease called poverty.
It's all a conspiracy
nonetheless, the ashes fall to the desperate souls. Sniffed up their nose.
Strangling the human inside.
but besides, the baggy jeaned pharmacist will be assisted to his grave.
What a shame.
Who's to blame.
Someone who wants his gain, his power, respect, his glory.
His black butterflies.
But in the end everyone dies.
Why must it be this way? This black on black crime.
But didn't God say, "all people are mine."
We just killing off one another.
No future for sister or ya brother.
Ya mother?
Well, she never had one either.
Smoked it away with reefer A.k.A. weed.
Ya father left without acknowledging his seed.
Butterflies darkened his mind.
Black butterflies darken the sky.
Choking the Earth.
So your left to wander on by yourself in the dark. Saying to yourself:
But hey, school isn't putting food on my table right now.
It's whatever, school isn't putting clothes on my back right now.
You think you found a solution.
You think you know how.
Taliban, taliban, rubber band man.
So you put on your black flight jacket. Your baggy jeans. Your Tims and Black fitted.
Hustling.
Standing on the corner busy while the fiens are bustling.
Ya eye is sharp.
And you think ya living it up as long as ya business is thriving.
Taliban, taliban, rubber band man.
Poisoning our streets.
Can't you see it kills heartbeats.
Just a conspiracy.
To kill you and me.
